When you were a child, did you manipulate your fingers in front of a light to make a fox and a rabbit, or other figures in shadow? Do you remember how much fun that was? Is giggling at a sleepover part of your memory, too?
Did you enjoy hopping around with your shadow on a sunny sidewalk?
How many times did an item in shadow look like a scary figure to spook you?
Shadows, Shadow work, The Shadow, a popular radio show Mom used to talk about.
Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men? The Shadow knows!
I was delighted to greet my shadow last month on the street at Dad’s house in Charlotte; it had been years since I’d seen her.
And running into her leads me here, musing about shadows of the internal variety.
A number of years ago, I said something like this to a friend over lunch: I’m pretty much at peace, and I’m holding old rage inside so I can use it if someone approaches me in a way that feels threatening.
I know it made a lot of sense to me then; I even wrote a poem about it.
Now, however, that comment sounds odd to me.
That’s because I’ve traveled far from that place inside into an integrated wholeness and peace that radiates from my being in a way that folks comment.
I’m not hanging onto darkness to use in defense, and thankfully, there’s not much coming out of my mouth I want to take back, either. It appears I’ve slowed down to respond with more care.
What a gift. It’s the peace and comfort with myself I’ve longed for my whole life (and maybe many lifetimes).
Shadow work.
Are you familiar with doing inner shadow work?
It’s a process that brings aspects of yourself you tossed into the corner into their highest good in your life, to welcome them as integrated aspects of yourself, no longer separate from your consciousness.
For instance, as Debbie Ford writes in, The Dark Side of the Light Chasers, she was told by Seminar Leader Jan Smith, You’re a bitch.
My heart sank. How did she know? I knew I was a bitch, but I had been trying desperately to get rid of this part of myself. I had worked hard to be sweet and generous to compensate for this awful trait. Then, dispassionately, Jan asked me why I hated this part of myself. Feeling small and stupid, I told her it was the part of me that caused me the most shame. I said that being a bitch had only brought myself and others pain. Then Jan said, What you don’t own, owns you.
Jan then asked Debbie questions to help her see if there was a positive side to Debbie’s bitchiness she could use in certain instances.
After that day, Debbie writes, my life was never the same. Another piece of the healing puzzle had fallen into place….By resisting the ‘bitch’ in myself, I had kept it locked into place. The minute I accepted it and saw its gift, I relaxed my resistance, and it became a nonissue for me. It became a natural healthy part of who I was….
This process seemed miraculous to me. So I made a list of all the parts of myself I didn’t like, and worked on finding the gifts in them….It became clear that the process was not about getting rid of things we dislike in ourselves, but about finding the positive side of these aspects and integrating it into our lives.
Acclaimed Jungian analyst and best-selling author Robert Johnson writes, When we find ourselves in a midlife depression, suddenly hate our spouse, our jobs, our lives – we can be sure that the unlived life is seeking our attention. When we feel restless, bored, or empty despite an outer life filled with riches, the unlived life is asking for us to engage. To not do this work will leave us depleted and despondent, with a nagging sense of ennui or failure. As you may have already discovered, doing or acquiring more does not quell your unease or dissatisfaction. Neither will ‘meditating on the light’ or attempting to rise above the sufferings of earthly existence. Only awareness of your shadow qualities can help you to find an appropriate place for your unredeemed darkness and thereby create a more satisfying experience. To not do this work is to remain trapped in the loneliness, anxiety, and dualistic limits of the ego instead of awakening to your higher calling.
May you and your shadow find peace, my friends.
This article first appeared in an August 2012 issue of Go In Joy!, a monthly ezine; to subscribe, sign up on any page of this site.